It All Falls Down (Rose Gardner Investigations #7) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,1

make out his soft smile. “Get some sleep. I’ve got this.”

And he did. He’d been with me every step of the way over the last six weeks. He’d taken a week of vacation on top of his two-week parental leave so he could help with her nightly feedings and make sure I napped during the day. He’d gone with me to her doctor checkups, helped keep her mountain of laundry maintained, taken turns cooking and cleaning, and insisted I leave the house from time to time so I got a break. I had no idea how I would have managed without him.

He’d been back to work for nearly three weeks, and I’d missed him being around so much that I’d started back to work part-time at the landscaping business I co-owned, bringing Hope with me. My business partner, Bruce Wayne, was trying to stay on top of things, but March through June was our busiest time, which meant we were plenty behind. Especially since I wasn’t the only one being pulled in different directions. Neely Kate, my best friend and the third full-time employee in the landscaping business, had just gotten married a matter of weeks ago. Before long, she’d have her own newborn baby—she and Jed were adopting, and their baby’s birth mama was over a week overdue. Babies didn’t stay in the womb forever, though, so it was a matter of days, not weeks. I figured it was best to try to catch up while we could.

The dark and the quiet lulled me back to sleep, and I was deep under by the time a ringing phone jolted me to wakefulness.

“Simmons,” Joe answered quietly in the dark, and I felt the bed shift as he got up and left the room.

Hope whimpered again, so I placed a hand on her stomach. She settled immediately, letting me catch a snippet from Joe’s conversation.

“When was he found?” he asked, then said, “Uh-huh.”

His voice was stiff, and given the way he’d answered the phone and the dark sky beyond the curtains, I knew this was an official call. Something bad had happened in Fenton County, and Chief Deputy Joe Simmons was being called into action.

My heart sank. Other than the usual burglaries and minor assaults, the crime world had been relatively quiet since my niece and nephew’s kidnapping and Hope’s birth.

Six weeks ago, a prepper family—the Collards—had kidnapped the kids for the Hardshaw Group, a crime syndicate from Dallas that was trying to get a foothold in Fenton County. Mike had done some work for them, and they’d felt a powerful interest in keeping him quiet. We still weren’t sure what role he’d played for them and why, let alone for how long, but he’d wanted access to the county courthouse. Vera Pullman, the woman who’d brought me to my niece and nephew—at gunpoint—had told me as much. Mike had gone into hiding after the kids were taken, but he’d reemerged as soon as I found them and marched himself to the state police to tell his side of the story.

I’d gone into labor while helping the kids escape, and Hope had been born in the woods with the help of Tim Dermot, a former nurse and present crime boss. After her traumatic birth, we’d both been admitted to the hospital to recover, and Ashley and Mikey had gone to stay with Mike’s parents. Two days later, they’d disappeared again. According to Mike’s parents, they were with him, and he was in protective custody. Joe had tried to get more details from the state police, but they were tight-lipped, only assuring him that Mike and the kids were safe. No one would tell us anything.

There wasn’t a thing I could do about it, but I knew my sister was likely rolling over in her grave. She’d wanted me to get custody of her kids, which was an impossible request given their father very much wanted them and—until their kidnapping—had been a great father. She’d left me a flash drive in her will, something that would supposedly change everything, but I still didn’t know what was on it, because the sealed manila envelope that held it had been stolen from her attorney’s safe.

I might never see Violet’s kids again. The thought was even more painful because I wanted Hope to know them—and for them to know her.

Joe slipped back into the room, his phone in his hand.

“What’s goin’ on?” I asked softly.

His glance dropped to Hope as he walked around the end